Recovery
by Lil Drop Of Magic
Summary: Tie-in with A Secret of Spells. After Hermione's accident it takes her a long time to recover. Luckily for her she has plenty of visitors. Drabbles.
1. One

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.

A/N As explained in my full-length story, this will be a series of drabbles chronically the time Hermione spends getting over her injuries. It's nothing fancy, just little moments that I couldn't get out of my head. They do proceed in order though. Enjoy!

* * *

"Go on."

"No."

"You know you want to."

"_No._"

"Harry did."

"Well, he shouldn't have," Hermione replied with a scowl.

"You're really going to ignore a request from the heir to Winterfell and the North?" Robb asked with mock outrage, though his face quickly dissolved into a grin.

"I am not here to meet the requests of little lordlings," Hermione protested.

"Your words wound me, my lady," Robb cried, holding a hand to his chest. "Little lordling, indeed!"

Jon shook his head at his half-brother's antics. "Robb leave her be. Can't you see how much pain she's in," he pointed out, though Hermione could tell that he was hoping that she'd agree anyway.

"Oh, all right then!" Hermione relented, pulling her wand from under her pillow with a wince. She was forever wincing now – the pain in her back, hips and ribs was almost unbearable. Maester Luwin had expressed a concern for her developing too much of a reliance on milk of the poppy and had recommended only two doses a day – one at night and another first thing in the morning. That meant that the middle of the afternoon was the best time to have an intelligible conversation with her but it was also when she was at her grumpiest.

Both boys' eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing more magic.

Hermione pointed her wand at Robb. "Tarantallegra!"

Robb gave a surprised yelp and Jon moved away from his brother in alarm before bursting into laughter at the sight of Robb's feet doing a manic jig.

"That'll teach you for trying to get a witch to do what you want," Jon chortled.

Hermione's lips twitched. She knew she shouldn't find practising magic on defenceless muggles amusing but Robb had definitely had it coming.

"Maybe next time the heir to Winterfell and the North will say, 'please', yes?" Hermione suggested sweetly as beads of sweat appeared on Robb's forehead.

"Yes! Please, I'm sorry," he cried. "Please make it stop!"

"All right." Hermione tapped her wand against her chin thoughtfully. "Now, let me see if I can remember the spell to stop it," she teased.

* * *

A/N See, I told you they were short.

Next time we have Arya and Bran.

Oh and if you have any particular requests of scenes or characters you'd like to see, feel free to let me know!

Lil Drop of Magic


	2. Two

A/N Hello! Just another little moment at Winterfell for you.

* * *

"Come in," Hermione called in response to the knock at the door.

A couple of small heads appeared and she smiled warmly at the familiar faces. "Arya! Bran!" She beckoned them forward.

They gazed at her with a mixture of concern and childish curiosity.

"When they brought you back from the woods I thought you were dead," Arya stated flatly. "I'm glad you're not."

"Me too," Hermione replied with an amused smile.

"Father wouldn't let us see you for _ages,_" Bran complained.

"I wasn't very good company for the first few days," Hermione explained. "If I wasn't asleep I was in terrible pain and I still won't be moving anywhere for quite a while."

"But how do you go to the privy?" Arya asked, causing Bran to giggle.

"With difficulty," Hermione muttered truthfully. She shifted her leg slightly, drawing their attention to the cast on her leg.

"What's that?" Bran asked, poking the stiff material gently.

"It's helping to protect my ankle so that it will mend itself," she replied.

"But what are those black lines?" Arya moved her head closer to the cast to peer more carefully at them.

"Harry wrote his name on it," Hermione answered. "That's what people in, um, Lorath do when someone has a cast on a part of their body."

"I want to do it!" Bran declared. He spotted ink and a quill on the desk in Hermione's room and ran over to it.

"I want to do it too," Arya said, attempting to snatch the writing tools out of her little brother's hands. They engaged in a furious battle for a few seconds until Hermione pointed out that it had been Bran's idea so he should go first.

"Fine," Arya snapped, suddenly relinquishing her grip and making Bran fall down. The boy didn't seem to mind though as he happily picked himself up and hurried back to Hermione's foot.

"Be careful not to get any ink on the sheets," Hermione warned Bran as he started scratching away at the cast.

"You have a lot of books," Arya commented with an air of great distaste as she looked around Hermione's room.

"Maester Luwin has let me borrow them," Hermione explained.

"Books are boring," Bran stated with certainty and Arya nodded in agreement.

"When I was your age I used to read story books," Hermione said, causing the children to look at her in confusion.

"You can't read a story, you _tell_ a story," Arya pointed out.

"Well, in Lorath stories are written in books so you can read them whenever you want," Hermione said.

Bran held out the quill to his sister. "What kind of stories?"

Hermione hesitated. Was there a risk in telling Arya and Bran fairytales from Earth? She honestly couldn't imagine what harm could come from a few stories.

"Once there was a girl called Gretel who was about this tall," she held her hand approximately level with Arya's height then did the same with Bran's, "And her brother Hansel was about this tall."

Arya and Bran were a very good audience as she told them the story of Hansel and Gretel. They thought the children were very clever to leave breadcrumbs to find their way home and they were astonished by the house made out of cake (for she didn't know the Common Tongue word for gingerbread or if it even existed). They cheered loudly when Gretel trapped the evil woman in the pot.

"If we went to Lorath would we be able to see the house of cake?" Bran asked with wide hopeful eyes.

"Don't be stupid, it would have rotted away by now, wouldn't it?" Arya pointed out, looking to Hermione for confirmation.

Hermione paused again, wondering whether she should explain that it was just a story. The distinction between fact and fiction seemed to be less clear in Westeros.

"The house is gone," Hermione agreed, making Bran's face fall. "But you can still see the cooking pot," she added solemnly. Arya and Bran looked at each other, impressed.

* * *

A/N Just to let you know that I've started the next chapter of ASoS (though admittedly I haven't gotten too far).

Next time – Harry!

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic


	3. Three

A/N Hi! Here we are with Harry then! Surprisingly enough it feels like I don't actually write many conversations with just these two.

* * *

"Shepherd's pie with a helping of chips," Harry stated. "Followed by treacle tart and a very generous amount of custard. What about you?"

Hermione took a moment to consider what meal she would chose to have at that very moment. She and Harry were very lucky to eat so well in Westeros when she knew that others had far less choice, but sometimes there was only so much stew one could take without wishing for a bit of variety. "Ham and pineapple pizza," she decided. "With a slice of chocolate fudge cake for pudding."

"Only one slice?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I have just eaten an entire pizza," she pointed out.

"Fair enough," Harry shrugged and then sighed. "We really shouldn't have had a conversation about that – I can't stop thinking about food now."

Hermione laughed. "Me neither. Do you think everyone will forgive us if we ignore them and head straight to the Great Hall for dinner when we get back to Hogwarts?"

"I'll have too much pastry in my mouth to care," Harry joked.

It was nice to see him smiling, Hermione thought. It was rare enough for Harry to look happy ever since they'd arrived in Westeros, but after their decision to eventually journey to the Citadel, an extra weight seemed to hang around his shoulders. She wished she could take some of the burden off of him but, as Jon and Robb had so amusingly pointed out, only males were accepted to train as maesters.

She would do everything she could to support Harry but in the end the responsibility of gaining access to the Citadel lay with him.

The shadow of Oldtown passed over Harry again and his face sobered.

"We'll get back," Hermione said with a calm certainty. "I know we will."

"Yeah," Harry replied enthusiastically. "Of course."

Hermione reached out to him and he embraced her. She was so grateful that she had Harry with her, though it felt almost selfish to think that because she knew he would be so much happier back at Hogwarts.

"Oh, I just remembered I wanted to ask you something," Harry said, pulling back from her with a look of amusement. "A couple of nights ago Bran nearly woke the entire Great Keep with his screams. It turns out Arya had snuck into his room and had tried to drag him to a cake house so she could boil and eat him. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Hermione tried to school her face into a mask of innocence.

* * *

A/N The next chapter of ASoS is written and just needs proof reading. Hopefully it will be up tomorrow or the day after.

Next time – Sansa!

Love,

Lil Drop of Magic


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